In Tutum
by AzizaGemma
Summary: Draco Malfoy would have never gone after such a tiresome witch if weren't for his twice cursed pride, but in order to pay back a debt to someone he would rather not have owed, he'll just have to maintain a stiff upper lip. Maybe if he played his cards right, he'd only have to do the bare minimum to pay it back. Eventual DM/HG, EWE


Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all recognizable characters from the Harry Potter franchise/series do not belong to me. I'm just using them to play out the stories in my head

Warnings: Eventual Draco/Hermione, but that is a long way in coming. Hints of male x male and violence in later chapters.

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From the outside, the café's exterior was dreary. The shop looked to be the subject of years of neglect from its owners – no sign of upkeep in its appearance or general wellbeing. There were no windows at the front of the café to offer any would-be customer a peek inside. Its dark, wooden door looked heavy and uninviting. The brightly lit shops and restaurants around it were well-maintained and each looked to be recently refurbished. Compared to its surrounding establishments, the café _In Tutum_ was lucky to draw in any customers. In fact, most people walked past the lackluster café without a second glance, save for one nastily scowling man with piercing gray eyes.

Those same gray eyes were intently focused on the café, busily tracing an invisible barrier around the building. The scowl became more pronounced and a palpable aura of disdain projected from the tall figure. He knew from the moment his _friend_ – all smiles and mischievous emerald eyes – came into his office to cash in a favor, that he should have turned the other way and ran. Alas, the opportunity was missed. If anything humiliating were to happen to him through this venture, he'd be sure to blame it on his messy haired _friend_ and not his staunch pride (which prevented him from turning tail like he deeply wanted to have done). Suddenly, the man's face became devoid of any previous signs of displeasure. A small, genial smile took the place of a scowl. Eyes that, previously, were like slate pinpricks softened and became dully polished river stones. The change in demeanor was so abrupt that if anyone were around to have witnessed the transformation, they would have hastily walked away from the man, unsettled.

The man walked forward and leisurely opened the door to the café, paying no heed to its loud creaking and substantial weight. Taking an assessing glance around the shop for anything unusual, the man found himself mildly surprised. Whereas its exterior belied the café's name, the interior was comfortable and clean. Were he the type of man to do so, he would have easily called the place homey and welcoming.

Gray eyes took a moment to take a closer look around the shop. Tables of various sizes and shapes were found all over the café with cozy, mismatched chairs encircling each one. The place was softly lit by candles placed in metal lanterns. Each lantern was set upon the tops of tables and counters. Oddly enough, the place wasn't crowded by the various furnishings. Neither was the café smothered with the scent of candles. Even when no vents or windows could be seen to air the place out, the air remained clean and fresh. It was obvious to the man that the café had many operating charms in place, including an interior expansion charm. There was no way that the small coffee shop he laid eyes on from the outside was able to fit all the tables and chairs it currently had. The walls were sparsely decorated by wall hangings, but were abundant in colorful murals spaced so closely together that the wall's original paint color could barely be seen. Upon closer scrutiny, the man could see runes sprinkled around the various pieces of art.

On the back wall was a quartz counter-top held up by what seemed to be an old base of a tree. A cash register and a case of baked goods were resting on its surface. Behind the counter stood two impossibly beautiful men who turned towards the newcomer and gave muted greetings of welcome.

Aside from the two at the counter, small clusters of people were seated throughout the café. The low hum of several quiet conversations provided a relaxed backdrop of noise. Just below the hum of conversation, the muggle news could be heard coming from the television above of the two workers and it caught the attention of the still smiling man.

"… and there has been no sign of anything being done to help the families who have gone through such a horrendous loss. The Prime Minister plans to release a statement-"

The man sharply turned away from the television, his smile faltering for a brief moment. A flicker of emotion passed through his eyes, momentarily darkening the orbs to a shadowed gray. Normally he would be wondering why muggle news would be shown in a clearly magical establishment, but his mind was too adrift to take immediate notice of the subtle detail.

He turned once more towards the occupants of the shop and his gaze paused at a dimly lit corner. Sitting alone, with her back to the wall, was a woman hunched over a large book. A muggle device was open and sitting idly on the chair next to her. It looked like a metal book with no pages, being read on its side. Loose paper was haphazardly scattered on the tabletop with some pages on the floor around the table. The man could just about make out a partially eaten scone and an empty, overturned mug from underneath the scattered pages on the tabletop.

The woman herself was in as much disarray as her secluded table. Her hunched shoulders and the many layers of mismatched clothing smothered her form and erased any trace of womanly curves that she may have had. Studying the shape she made, with her front propped against the table, the man likened her to a sack of potatoes. Her hair, which was barely held together in a bun on top of her head, had several brown strands running free from the confines of the hair tie. With how unkempt her hair was, it would be difficult for anyone to judge what state it naturally curled. A deep frown rested on her face etching wrinkles over her brow and around her mouth.

The man almost sneered in distaste for her unseemly appearance, before he caught himself. _Oh, how the mighty have fallen._ Making sure his smile was still in place, the man made his way towards the woman.

"Excuse me, Miss Granger?"

The woman whose attention was focused solely on the book in her hands didn't even blink. The man's smile adopted a strained edge and he cleared his throat, trying to gain her attention once more. Just as he was once more opening his mouth to call out to her, empty brown eyes looked straight into gray. Recognition flashed in those eyes for a brief moment and the woman stood up abruptly, disturbing all the papers around her from their resting places.

"No. Merlin, NO. I am _tired_ of all you idiotic, undercover, _wannabe_ sympathizers trying to get me to talk. If your department head wants to talk to me, _he can come to me HIMSELF."_

"Miss, please. I assure you I am– "

"No."

"Now listen here Granger, I did not – "

"No."

Before he could either reassure her that he was no wannabe spy or even give a scathing reply back to her dismissal of him and his purpose there, the woman reached into her front robe pocket, grabbed a handful of some suspiciously colorful substance, and promptly threw it in his face. He could do nothing but gape at her in astonishment, blinking away at a significant pace to get the foreign substance out of his eyes and holding back any unseemly coughing to expel the powder from his lungs. She took his momentary shock as her chance and turned on her heals, disappearing with a loud, oddly angry sounding pop.

By the time his brain finally registered what happened in the past two minutes, the woman was gone. The customers were all turned towards him, some trying valiantly to muffle snickers behind their hands or different reading materials. One of the men who were at the counter was making his way towards him, an amused gleam in his eyes.

The gray eyed man had never felt so humiliated. Never mind the fact that he was disguised and no one would have been able to recognize him.

Favor fulfilled or not, he was going to murder Potter.

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Hello, hello! This is my gift for a green little vixen, but to everyone else who aren't green or vixen, I hope you've enjoyed the first chapter! I have a couple chapters written out already for this story, but don't expect to see them up at a timely manner. Life can get in the way most days, and on others I'm just too lazy to bother~

Please go ahead and review. What are your thoughts, questions, witty comments? I expect any and all forms of reviews, even flames! Don't worry! Flames always have a special place in my heart, i.e. the trash bin 3

Thank you all for reading! Till next time, Aziza


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